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A Dance of Youth and Light by Greenstorm
The quick slash of an oaken cudgel whistles past her ear. Taking her weight on her shoulder she throws herself off her snorting horse and onto the cobblestones only to come up in a quick roll. Her opponent is frighteningly fast in these close quarters and adrenaline thudding in her ears drowns out even the rumbling and cursing of this thunderstorm. He is hidden from her by the murky air, outlined in lingering images on her retina with each crackle of white electricity. Only reflexes honed by year upon year of constant practice save her now. Steel sings out of the scabbard and into her hand where it shudders almost immediately with the impact of another blocked blow. The blade leads her forward then in a lunge in a blindingly white freeze-frame of light shattered from the sky. Though she catches only cloth it's good to become the attacker after the ambush, good to once more be the huntress in pursuit of a quarry. She swears to herself, sudden and viciously, when dancing afterimages clear from her vision. Her opponent's eyes in this murky storm glow an unmistakable amber, and though he too is hampered by the quick flashes of lightning-brightness the dark does not slow him-- and he remains inhumanly fast. It's a powerful shadow they hunt tonight. At the price of a numbing blow to her hip she holds him there in the alley through a shower of ringing parries and thuds. Fear finds her then as this seemingly endless skirmish draws on and her heart leaps in a jolt to her throat when another rounds the corner behind her. She reads her own hope, suddenly, in the Shadow's expression and she plunges in for the kill- -only to be stayed as if by iron bonds when the one behind her yells "...stop, the whip..." with any other words torn away by the storm's tender mercies. That these were to be taken alive by Church mandate is easily overlooked by a panicked novice Shadowscourge in the scrabble of surprise and slick footing that is her first truly dangerous hunt. She risks recieving another blow that sends icy needles down her off arm to switch weapons, snapping out her scourge and once more diving into the fray. It's easily won now with the weight of another behind her to lend fear of numbers to the Shadow and to light her own attack. Steadied by the presence of an ally her strategic training comes back in a rush and she sets to a complex series of feints with balletic precision. Soon the opponent lies in the reeking gutter, unconscious and bound, and as the aftermath of adrenaline turns her knees to mush her Sun's Ray is there to catch her before she joins him. The Shadow-spawned storm has dissipated by the time she has climbed back to her feet and helped drag their prone captive over the back of her horse. It's a relief to her to ride behind one of her own, one member of three in the ray of holy light that supports her in good times and bad and which has, this night, saved her life for the first of uncountable times. She slumps forward, half-dozing against the strong back ahead of her, and through the haze and the pain she smiles victoriously. Victory glow warms to something further as the ride continues, and half-asleep still she savours the bulk of another body wedged ahead of her on the mount between her thighs. Her pulse heightens with each jouncing step that rocks her forward against her comrade and her mind wanders freely with its usual discipline softened by exhaustion and triumph. After that it's a shock indeed to arrive back at the church to a 'Bane's silent beckon. Guilt and shame arrive all at once in a crushing wave. Surely, she thinks, her sins of thought are known and she goes to her punishment. She forces herself to limp after him hesitantly through the pews to a corner away from the commotion of their arrival. His voice hisses in her ears and she tries desperately to focus on the words through a ringing in her ears. "Ashkalia, sister. The Shadow moves large tonight. You have only caught one drop in a tempest. I am bid to more dangerous waters; here and now your task is to take this Shadowed life and wring from it the names and places of it's brethren. Do not destroy your captive for he will be needed to drive the fear of Light's wrath into this unholy town." She can only nod and wipe at the hair plastered by rain and sweat across her face. Before any questions make their way into her relief-fogged mind the Shadowbane is gone, and she left to make her weary way back to the dungeon of this country church. There will be no rest for her tonight. Category:OtherSpace Stories